Should Oxford to her fifter Cambridge join
A year's rack-rent, and arbitrary fine:

Thence not one winter's charge would be defray'd,
For play-house, opera, ball, and masquerade,
Glad I congratulate the judging age,

The players are the world, the world the stage.
I am a politician too, and hate

Of any party, ministers of state:

I'm for an Act, that he, who fev'n whole years
Has ferv'd his king and country, lose his ears.

Thus from my birth I'm qualified you find,
To give the laws of Taste to human kind.
Mine are the gallant fchemes of politeffe,
For books, and buildings, politics, and drefs.
This is true Tafte, and whofo likes it not,
Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and fot.

Oderunt bilarem triftes, triftemque jocofi,
Sedatum celeres, agilem gnavumque remissi.

HE art of converse, how to footh the foul

TH

Of haughty man, his paffions to controul,
His pride at once to humble and to please,
And join the dignity of life with ease,

HOR.

Be now my theme. Ọ thou, whom Nature's hand
Fram'd for this beft, this delicate command,
And taught, when lifping without reason's aid,
At the fame time to speak and to persuade,

WYNDHAM,

WYNDHAM, with diligence awhile attend,

Nor fcorn th' inftructions of an older friend;

Who when the world's great commerce shall have join'd
The deep reflection, and the strength of mind,
To the bright talents of thy youthful state,
In turn fhall on thy better leffons wait.

Whence comes it, that in every art we fee
Many can rise to a supreme degree;
Yet in this art, for which all seem design'd
By nature, fcarcely one compleat we find?
You'll fay, perhaps, we think, we fpeak, we move,
By the strong springs alone of selfish love:

Yet among all the fpecies, is there one,

Whom with more caution than ourselves, we fhun?
What is it fills a puppet-show or court?
Go none but for the profit or the sport?
If fo, why comes each foul fatigu'd away,
And curfes the dull puppets fame dull play;
Yet unconvinc'd, is tempted still to go ?
'Tis that we find at home our greatest foe.
And reafon good why folitude we flee;
Can wants with self-sufficiency agree ?
Yet, fuch our inconsistency of mind,
We court fociety, and hate mankind.

With fome we quarrel, for they're too fincere:
With others, for they're clofe, referv'd and queer:
This is too learn'd, too prudent, or too wife;
And that we for his ignorance despise:

A voice perhaps our ear shall harshly strike,
Then strait ev'n wit itself shall raise dislike;
Our eye may by fome feature be annoy'd,
Behold at once a character destroy'd:
One's fo good-natur'd, he's beyond all bearing,
He'll ridicule no friend, though out of hearing:
Another warm'd with zeal, offends our eyes,
Because he holds the mirror up to vice.

No wonder then, fince fancies wild as these
Can move our fpleen, that real faults displease.
When Mævius, fpite of dullness, will be bright,
And teach ARGYLL to speak, and SWIFT to write;
When Flavia entertains us with her dreams,
And Macer with his no less airy schemes;
When peevishness, and jealousy and pride,
And int'reft that can brother hearts divide,
In their imagin'd forms our eyesight hit,
Of an old maid, a poet, peer or cit;
Can then, you'll fay, philofophy refrain,
And check the torrent of each boiling vein?

Ye

Yes. She can still do more; view paffion's flave
With mind ferene, indulge him, and yet fave.

But felf-conceit steps in, and with strict eye
Scans every man, and every man awry ;
That reigning paffion, which through every stage
Of life, still haunts us with unceasing rage.
No quality fo mean, but what can raife'
Some drudging driveling candidate for praise;
Ev'n in the wretch, who wretches can despise,
Still felf-conceit will find a time to rife.
Quintus falutes you with forbidding face,
And thinks he carries his excufe in lace:
You afk, why Clodius bullies all he can?
Clodius will tell you, he's a gentleman :
Myrtilla ftruts and shudders half the year,
With a round cap, that fhews a fine-turn'd ear:
The lowest jest makes Delia laugh to death;
Yet fhe's no fool, fhe has only handsome teeth.
Ventofo lolls, and fcorns all human kind
From the gilt coach with four lac'd slaves behind;
Does all this pomp and ftate proceed from merit?
Mean thought! he deems it nobler to inherit:
While Fopling from fome title draws his pride,
Meanless, or infamous, or mifapply'd;

Y 4

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